


Somewhere In Mexico

by TheDevilInHerself



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Love/Hate, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDevilInHerself/pseuds/TheDevilInHerself
Summary: Javier was well suited to this life. Loyal to Dutch, good with a gun, living a free man. It was the kind of life he was made for. But things have a way of changing when women get involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slight spoiler for Chapter three but very small and doesn't reveal much. Just fair warning in case you want absolutely no spoilers. Other then that its pretty spoiler free.

The rides back to camp always felt like they took too long. Especially after a bad heist. The stage coach that had been rumored to be transporting treasure had been nothing but a woman their informant had a grudge against. All that trouble for a few dollars and some jewelry had the boys in a sour mood.

The only consolation was the good company. Javier enjoyed Arthur and Charles’ banter. They were good men. Well, bad men, but good friends. He trusted them to have his back. And besides that, they were generally pleasant to be around.

“It just feels like everyone is getting restless. I reckon we need to make some good money. And quick. Then head west before the law gets wise.” Arthur grumbled, rocking with his horse’s movements as they meandered down the dirt path, the small but persistent hope lingering that a good heist would just cross their path.

“You don’t have to convince me. But Dutch thinks there’s money to be had with these two families. And he’s dead set on finding it.” Charles agreed, gaze lulling in the other two’s direction.

“Just going to get us in deeper.”

“Hey.” Pulling back on the reins, Charles nodded towards a clearing just off to the right. Among the flowers and tall grass stood a group of deer. Three or four of them. “We should at least bring back some food. Pearson has been on me about needing meat.” With a nod, Arthur and Javier reached for their rifles. “Not the guns. I ran into O'Driscolls around these parts the other day. A lot of them. Think they have a camp around here. Arthur, you still have that bow.”

Not needing further instruction, the blond took out the bow, readying a few arrows as he encouraged his horse forward enough to shoot around the others. With slow movements, he pulled back the string, taking aim before letting an arrow loose.

The cry of the deer would have been alarming if it wasn’t his millionth time hearing it. With it, one deer fell the ground, thrashing for a moment before stilling. The others wasted no time dashing off, running across the path ahead in their escape towards the woods. Feeling confident, Arthur again drew the bow, loosing another arrow in the direction of the fleeing dear. Again they heard the cry, the last deer falling to the ground. But this one managed back to its feet, disappearing down the path ahead and out of sight.

“Nice. I see you’ve improved.” Charles smiled, pleased with his friend’s shots. “You go get the fallen one. I’ll track the injured one. It can’t get too far.”

“Shoah.” Turning his horse in the direction of the field, Arthur seemed pleased with this turn of events.

“I’ll help. You have no room on the back of your horse anyway.” Javier offered, following his friend.

With that the men went their separate ways. The shot had been clean and the deer a nice catch. It was easy enough to load onto the back of Javier’s horse. Quickly lashed down and ready for the road.

“Alright, let’s meet up with Charles. If this area is as full of O'Driscolls as he says, we better not leave him alone too long.” Javier nodded, following the other as they started back down the road.

It didn’t take them long to find their companion. As they crested the hill, they saw him just down the road, deer already lashed to the back of his horse. Sitting tall on his horse, the man’s attention was taken by two figures that stood on the side of the road. Even from the distance, it was clear that it was a woman and a small child.

“Leave him alone for five minutes and he starts chatting up some woman. And here I thought you were the smooth talking one.” Arthur chuckled, giving his dark skinned friend a good natured smirk.

“We’ll see if he can keep her attention. Just make sure you don’t scare her off.”

With a laugh, Arthur rode ahead, followed behind by the other as they went to rejoin their friend. As they neared, they were able to pick up what was being said.

“I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s not safe out here. There are dangerous men out. And don’t take offense, but you don’t look prepared for a fight.”

“We don’t have much of a choice.”

“My companions are just over the hill a ways. We could give you a ride to the nearest town if you need.”

“Really? Bless you, sir. Bless you.”

“What seems to be the trouble?” Coming on the scene, Arthur came to a halt behind Charles, lazily sizing up the situation.

“This woman’s horse just got caught in a trap. She had to shoot it and was needing help finding the nearest town. I think it’d be best if we took them there. We have the time anyway and we could pick up supplies.” Charles expounded on the situation, looking between the two men who nodded before returning his gaze to the travelers.

But he was lost to you. The whole world fell away, lungs emptied, and heart clenched as your eyes locked on Javier. And as his eyes met your gaze, his expression fell, lips parting for the words that failed him. Your face, your hair, your eyes. Those eyes that saw through him, leaving him hollow.

“y/n” He breathed your name. The only thing he could bring utterance to as a thousand thoughts flashed through his head in a jumble of indecipherable emotion.

“Javier.” You answered on instinct, mind blank.

“What are you doing here?” He managed, the only thought he could work out enough to be cohesive.

Your hand tightened around your son’s causing him to jump before addressing you.

“Mamá?” Your son’s voice seemed the push you needed to get your wits about you. Pulling him close, you wrapped your arm around him, pinning the boy to your leg.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You asserted deffensively, gaze as cold as your heart.

“It’s not safe here.” Javier asserted, numb to your sharp tone. “At least let us help you-“

“Not from the likes of you.” Spitting venom, you pushed your son behind you, “We’ll find the way ourselves.” Turning, you hurried your son away, shushing his questioning as you quickly put distance between you and the men.

“What? Are you serious?” he exclaimed, stunned at your toxic response.

“Espero que un pollo te pique la polla!” You called back to him, never looking back as you rushed over the next hill and out of sight.

“What the hell was that about?” Baffled, Arthur looked from Javier to Charles, hoping the other had some clue as to what was going on.

“You know her?” Charles asked.

Face glowing red, the Mexican’s breathing was reduced to short, forced intakes of air, face contorted in rage. Both men were startled at the sight, the pure murderous fury that burned in his eyes unmatched by any experience they had with the man.

“We can’t let them go.” He growled, eyes still trained on the spot you had last been. “Arthur. Grab the boy.”

“What?” Alarmed, Arthur barely managed out the question as Javier began to spur his horse on.

“Just do it!” Racing off, there was no arguing with the man as he charged after you.

“Who the hell is she?” Arthur called after him, kicking into his horse’s side in an attempt to keep up.

“My fucking wife.” The men weren’t sure they heard him right as he shouted back to them. But there wasn’t time for questions.

As they overcame the hill, the two men were just in time to see Javier leaning off the side of his horse, scooping you up in his arm as you were wrenched away from your son. In any other circumstance, they would have been impressed just how gracefully the man scooped you up onto his horse. But in light of the impromptu kidnapping, the skill was secondary to the issue.

“Mamá!” The boy cried, suddenly alone in the street.

“Put me down you hijo de puta!” Claws and fist flying, Javier struggled to keep his horse straight on the path as you assaulted him.

Not brave enough to try the same stunt, Arthur slowed to a trot, grabbing a fist full of the boy’s collar to haul him onto his horse. Afraid to fall, the boy clung to Arthur, wailing hysterically as they raced off after you and your captor.

“It’s ok, boy. We’re just taking you somewhere safe.” He reassured, spurring his horse on till he was close on Javier’s tail. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t touch my son!” You screamed, shoving at Javier’s face as you attempted to grab at the reins.

With one hand, Javier was able to secure your wrists, pinning you to his chest as he did his best to ignore the stream of Spanish curses you hurled at him.

“Keep it down. With all this noise we’re bound to attract some unwanted attention.”

As if hearing their cue, the sound of hooves rolled in like thunder, from all sides.

“Get ‘em, boys!” The first two shots whizzed over your heads, but the third was too close for Arthur’s comfort.

“Shit! You done it now!”

“Split up! We’ll meet back at the camp. Arthur, I’ll help you guard the kid. Javier, see if you can give them the slip.” With no time to confirm as the numbers overwhelmed them, the men split off, disappearing into the woods as Javier continued down the dirt path, horse panting as if possessed.

“My son! Where are they taking my boy?” You flailed wildly in Javier’s arms, neck craning to try to catch sight of your son as a handful of men followed them into the trees.

“He’ll be fine. Arthur won’t let anything happen to him.” He reassured, ducking off the trail as bullets rained down on the two of you.

“Take me back. Take me to my son.”

“We have more pressing matters!” He asserted, leaning you forward as his horse jumped a fence. “You could help you know!” Releasing your hands to take a firm grip on the reins, Javier wasn’t sure giving you a gun was the best idea, but between you and the O'Driscolls, he trusted you a little bit more.

Pulling his gun from its leather, he could see the momentary flash in your eyes as the thought crossed your mind. But as another bullet came dangerously close, you thought better of it. Pressing against Javier, your arms wrapped around his neck, face pressed against his ear as you aimed the weapon at the closest man in pursuit.

A shot rang out, the gun bucking up in your hand from the recoil. The man ducked away, but was unharmed. Pulling the hammer back, you fired off again. And again. And again. You managed to pick off three of the men, whether fatally or just wounded you weren’t sure. But it was good enough at the moment.

“How many are there?”

“Five. I need to reload.”

“My satchel!” He called back, leaning into you as he took a sharp right turn to avoid a rock.

“Four.” You called out as one of the men crashed their horse into the rock Javier had dodged. Reaching into his satchel, you pulled out the box you needed quickly picking out six bullets before securing the box in the front of your shirt. Hugging against him to steady your hands, you hurriedly slipped the bullets into their slots.

“The boy. Is he…” Javier let his sentence trail off as a rider came up to his side, pointing a gun at the two of you. With a jerk of the reins, he rammed into the man, fist flying out to land a solid blow on the O'Driscolls’ face. The man tumbled off to be dragged by his horse as it veered away.

“He’s not yours, if that’s what you’re asking!” You shouted back, bitterness heavy in your voice.

Two more shots rang out and another man was down.

“You didn’t wait long.” Javier shot back, arm wrapped around you to secure you as he took another sharp turn.

“Longer than you deserved.” Another shot and another man. Now there was only one, slow and lagging behind. “Go faster, we’ve almost lost him.”

A few more sharp turns and the man was out of sight. Yet still, Javier did not slow. Through fields and forests and trails he rode on, maneuvering as if still under a barrage of bullets.

“Hey, stop. Stop!” Grabbing at the reins, you pulled back hard, almost causing the horse to rear back as it came to a sudden stop. “They’re gone. What the hell are you doing?”

“I had to make sure we weren’t being followed.”

“Well we’re not. Now take me back to my son.” Pointing the gun at his chest, your eyes filled his heart with ice and sent fire through his veins. In one quick move, he wrenched the gun from you, free hand grabbing a fist full of your hair to yank your head back. A small mewl of pain escaped you as Javier glared at you from under heavy lids.

“Point a gun at me again and I’ll break your hand.” Your breathing was heavy with anger, but you did not protest.  
Releasing you, the outlaw returned his gun to its holster before fixing you with a stony stare. You glared back, unwilling to give ground as you leaned as far from the man as your position would allow.

“Where is my son?”

“Back at camp. He’ll be safe there.”

“Take me to him. Now.”

“Fine.” His tone was gruff, but he obliged nonetheless. Pulling the reins, he started up a steady pace as the two of you made your way back to camp.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the two of you. Neither willing to say any of the things that flooded your minds. The landscape was unfamiliar as he carried you on, but you did you best to remember it, not wanting to be left at the mercy of his compassion once you were reunited with your son. After a long stretch of road had been traveled, Javier broke the silence.

“What are you doing this far north? I thought you said you’d never leave Mexico.”

“I already told you, it’s none of your business.”

“Did you come here with the boy’s father?”

“None of you-“

“Who my wife sleeps with is my damn business.” He retorted, voice a warning as his hands clenched around the leather and his handsome visage was shaped by his furrowing brow.

“Well I’m hardly your wife anymore.” You snorted averting your eyes.

“How come when we were together you always told me you didn’t want kids. Didn’t want to raise them in a world like this. But as soon as I’m gone you get knocked up by whatever man will warm your bed.” You startled a few birds with the loud sound of your hand on his cheek, holding back none of your strength as you expressed your displeasure.

Javier was stunned for a moment, his face stinging as you glared daggers at him, cheeks red and expression indignant. You knew he would retaliate, but you hadn’t expected his tongue to force its way down your throat, nor his hand at the back of your neck, forcing the kiss deeper still.

With a strong shove you had him off you, spitting and cursing as you wiped at your mouth, cheeks furiously red. You couldn’t read his expression, or his eyes. Something so familiar yet so foreign in the way his eyes lingered on you.

“It’s getting dark.” He finally spoke, as if nothing had happened. “We better get back to camp.” Eyes returning to the road, he didn’t speak another word, stoically silent as he wound his way through the growing darkness.

Wandering into another lining of trees, you were startled when a voice called out in the dark.

“Who goes there?”

“It’s me, Karen.” Javier answered back, never slowing his horse.

“Javier? Is everything alright? Arthur said y’all ran into trouble.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Well good.” As the voice again replied, the lights of a fire caught your eye, the trees thinning to reveal a clearing on the water’s edge.

When Javier had said camp, you had pictured a small cluster of tents the three men occupied. But this was a whole operation. Everywhere you looked there were people and horses and tents. It might as well have been a small town. Leading his horse up to a hitching post, Javier was quick to dismount, offering you a hand that you shrewdly refused.

“Javier. My boy. You’ve returned safe at last.” A deep voice boomed over the camp, a well dressed man approaching the two of you with open arms. “And you’ve brought a guest. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Dutch Van Der Linde. Welcome Madam.” Taking your hand, the man lay a kiss to soft flesh, making you flush as he spared you a devilish grin. So distracted were you with the man’s greeting, that you missed the way Javier watched you from the corner of his eyes as he unloaded the deer from the back of his horse.

“Mamá!” Your heart leapt into your throat as you heard your son’s squeal. Looking over in the direction of a large campfire, you saw your boy sprinting towards you, lips split into a huge smile as his arms reached for you.

“Mi hijo!” Rushing to him, you scooped him up in your arms, his joyous giggling putting your heart at ease. “Are you well? Did they hurt you?”

“No, Mamá. We played games. They have a dog. And I made a friend.”

“Did you now? And here I’ve been worrying about you. And you’re off playing games.” You smiled, kissing his forehead as you did.

“It was fun, Mamá.”

“He’s a good kid.” A large, dark skinned man stepped forward. You recognized him as one of the men who had accompanied Javier. You spared him a nod, grateful that they had kept your son safe, but still distrustful.

“Thank you. But we must be going now.” With a grunt, Javier shouldered the deer, carrying it past Dutch as he leaned in close to mutter.

“Don’t let her leave.”

“Madam. I know your means of arrival were less than hospitable. But please, let us make it up to you. Stay. At least for the night.” Dutch again interjected, motioning towards the fire.

“We really should be going. I’d like to make it to the next town before morning.”

“Now, I’m sure you’re a capable young woman. But it’s a dangerous country out there. Full of delinquents and thugs. And with it being dark, well, I just wouldn’t feel right letting a pretty young thing and her son go out alone. Please, stay the night. We can prepare you a tent and I’m sure you need a warm meal.”

“Mamá, I’m hungry.” Your son chimed in, clearly enjoying his time here and wanting to stay.

“I’m not so sure.” Your eyes tracked Javier as he placed the deer at the butcher’s table. Dutch observed this, stepping in closer to steal back your attention.

“Madam. I give you my word, ALL my associates will be on their best behavior while you are here.”

“Please, Mamá. Please.” Your son chimed in. You couldn’t deny, you were hungry and tired. And the thought of the long walk to whatever town was near put an ache in your feet. Reluctantly, you agreed, assuring yourself that the camp was big enough for you to avoid Javier.

“Wonderful.” Dutch exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Mrs. Grimshaw! Please, help our guest get settled in. And see to it that she gets a warm meal.”

An older looking woman fussed over, barking orders at two of the other women to prepare a tent for you before leading you to the fire. You soon had a warm bowl of stew in hand. The flavor was lacking, but as hungry as you were, food was food. It didn’t take long for your son to scarf down his meal, fleeing to run around the camp with another small child that appeared a bit younger than him.

Every now and again your eyes would wander to Javier, comforted by the fact that he occupied a table on the other side of camp. As a few of the women joined you around the fire, you soon slipped into conversation with them, enjoying the company of other females. Something you had been lacking for the last few month.

Javier sipped on his beer, stewing in the emotions he hid beneath his indifferent facade as he watched you titter with the women. Too many memories and questions occupied his thoughts. And the beer wasn’t nearly strong enough to drown them.

“I’ve never seen a man sulking about, pining over his own wife before.” Javier spared his friend an unamused glance as Arthur sat down at the table, a pleased smile on the cowboys' lips. 

“I’m not pining.”

“But you are sulking.” Arthur pointed out, leaning heavily on the table, beer in hand. “What even happened between the two of you? I’ve never heard you mention you’re married. Let alone had a son.”

“I’d rather not talk about it. And he’s not mine.” Despite his usual cool demeanor, Arthur could see that your appearance had shaken up something in the man.

“Oh, so it’s like that.”

“It’s not ‘like’ anything. Just leave it alone.” He shot his friend a warning look, but Arthur just smirked back.

“You can’t tell me that. I was there. I saw how you lost your head over her. That stunt you pulled I would have expected from Marston, but you?”

“Mr. Arthur! Mr. Arthur! Can I draw some more in your journal?” The men were interrupted as your son ran up, tugging on Arthur’s arm to gain his attention.

Both men turned to regard the child, Javier’s lips pursing as he studied the boy’s tan skin and dark hair. Feeling his gaze, the boy looked up at the other man and started. Ducking behind Arthur, he peered out at Javier from under the cowboy’s arm.

“You’re that bad man that took Mamá.” Javier raised a brow at the boy’s statement, finding himself in no mood to deal with the child.

“Now, boy. He ain’t a bad man. Just an- an old friend of your mother's.” Arthur assured.

“Really?”

“Shoah. Ain’t ya, Javier.” The darker man shot the cowboy a annoyed glare, but couldn’t refuse Arthur’s expectant gaze.

“Yeah. Old friend.”

“Mamá never told me about you.”

“Well, your Mamá never told me about you either.”

“You must not be a good friend then.” Arthur didn’t even try to hold back his laughter, fist banging the table as he howled. Javier found his patience wearing thin, just wanting to shoo the kid off so he didn’t have to stare into those large eyes that were so much like yours.

“Do you have a name kid?” He asked, preparing some scolding to chase the kid off.

“Carlos,” he answered, “Carlos Escuella.”

Arthur's laughter stopped, his face falling as he looked down at the boy who had answered so honestly. Javier’s eyes were wide. For the second time that day, words failed him. But Arthur spoke up for him.

“Escuella? Tell me, kid. Where’d you get a name like that?”

“My dad. Mamá says it’s all he left me.”


	2. Familia

“Your dad is an Escuella?” Arthur asked slowly, seemingly trying to work out if the conclusion he was drawing was actually correct.

“Si.” At this point the boy was catching on that something was peculiar about his answers, eyes darting back and forth between the men’s awed expressions.

“What was his first name?” Javier asked, words rushed as his gaze frightened the boy.

“I-I don’t know. Mamá just calls him el bastardo.” The boy was alarmed as Javier jumped to his feet, storming off in the direction of the campfire as he threw his bottle to the ground. Gripping Arthur’s arm, the boy seemed pensive. “Di-did I do something wrong?”

“No. No you’re alright, boy.” Arthur reassured as his eyes tracked Javier.

You were laughing at this point, enjoying yourself as Abigail discussed with you all the joys and struggles of motherhood. It was rare for you to find a kindred spirit. So as the two of you shared stories and jokes, you found yourself more relaxed than you had been in months.

So when a hand clamped down on your arm, yanking you out of your seat, you let out a cry. Javier’s eyes were wild with rage as he pulled you over the log, knocking you to the ground when your feet couldn’t respond fast enough.

“Javier!” Abigail exclaimed, startled by the mad look in his eyes and the way he dragged you behind him.

“Ay!” You couldn’t get your feet under you as he pulled you, tripping and stumbling, behind him towards the trees.

“Javier! What are you doing, boy?” Dutch appeared out of nowhere, attempting to intercede. But as he moved to block Javier’s path, the man turned his crazed eyes on his leader.

“Stay out of it, Dutch!” The grit to his voice and the venom he spit was enough to make the other take a step back, giving Javier all the room he needed to drag you out of earshot of the rest of the camp.

“L-Let me go! Javier. You’re hurting me.” You finally found your voice as the darkness of the thicket closed around the two of you.

Pulling at the man’s fingers, you could not break yourself free of his grasp. Not till he yanked you up to pin against a tree, his body overshadowing you as he leaned in close.

“Why did you lie to me?” You shrunk under his gaze, fearing his anger and your isolation.

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s my son!” His fist slammed the bark to the side of your head, causing you to yelp and jerk away.

“N-no he’s not.”

“You gave him my last name! So either you fucked my cousin or he’s mine.” You slid down the tree a bit as he loomed over you, cornered by his rage and his accusations.

You couldn’t find the words to rebuttal, mind not fast enough to summon a believable excuse. Your silence spoke volumes, almost as much as the guilt in your eyes. His chest heaved, the air forced out his nostrils hot against your face.

“Why did you lie to me? That’s my son! I have a right to know I have a son. All this time I had no idea. And then you go and lie.”

“What does it matter.” You argued, finding your voice. “We’ll be gone in the morning anyway.”

“Like hell you will. I’m not just letting you leave with my son.”

“You didn’t even know he existed till today.”

“I wonder who’s fault that is.”

“YOURS! You left me, Javier!” Despite your best efforts, tears ran trails down your cheeks, voice cracking as you spoke. “You’re the one who walked away. What right do you have to him now?”

“You never told me you were pregnant! If I had known- Why would you keep that from me?”

“I wasn’t even sure. And what was I supposed to do? You had your things all packed and were ready to walk out the door. Was I supposed to tell you you had to stay cause I thought there might be a chance I was pregnant? Would you really have even stayed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He spat back, his honesty in the moment worming its way into your heart as more tears fell. “You’re the one that told me to go.”

“I was hurt, Javier. You wanted to leave me and I was scared and hurt and I didn’t want to lose you. But you were going to leave me anyway.” A sob bubbled up from your throat, betraying you further as so many memories came pouring back, fresh and raw and horrid to the extreme. “At the end of the day it was your choice. And you chose to leave us.”

“I left you. I knew nothing about a child. And you know I had to. Don’t pretend like I just abandoned you.”

“You did.”

“My people needed me.”

“I needed you! Your wife needed you. But you left me. Alone and afraid and with a child. Under the eyes of a government that thought I was a traitor ‘cause I was married to you.” He was so close now, pressed against you as his eyes flashed between yours. Your hands clutched at his vest, feeling his warmth in your stiff fingers. “I needed you, querido. And you weren’t there. And I didn’t know where you were. Or how to find you. Or if you were even alive.” Another sob ripped free, ugly and loud as you tilted your face away from his gaze.

“I didn’t know.” He muttered. “I thought you’d be fine without me.” Nuzzling his head against yours, his voice was soft, vulnerable and filled with regret.

“Well I wasn’t,” your protest was weak. He was so much like you remembered, warm and gruff and strong. His hand brushed yours, and you had to fight the impulse to slip your fingers into his.

“The boy. He is mine. Isn’t he?” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if afraid to utter the question.

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“There was no other, Javier.” With your words, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight against him as you buried your face into his shoulder.

“Then we can fix this.” He assured, though you weren’t sure if it was for you or him. “We can still make this- us work.”

“It’s too late, Javier. There’s nothing left to fix.”

“You’re still my wife. That’s my son. We can be a family-“

“Ten years. Nearly ten years you left me alone. You never came back, never checked on me. If there was a time to fix this, it was long ago.” Pulling from his grasp, you wiped at your face, unable to meet his gaze as you brushed past him to return to camp. “Tomorrow we will leave. Then you can forget about us again.”

He didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know what to feel. Or even what he was feeling. But at your words, something hardened inside him. Clenching his fist, he turned to face you.

“You can leave. But the boy is staying.”

“Qué?” You weren’t entirely sure you heard him right, brows raised as you spared him a questioning stare.

“If you want to leave, then I won’t stop you. But my son is staying with me.” He again asserted, stronger this time.

“Like hell he is. You have no right to him.”

“He’s my son. I have every right to him. And I won’t let you deny me the chance to raise him again.”

“Deny you-?” Ignoring you, Javier stormed past, making his way back to camp as you sputtered behind him. 

Dutch met him half way with Arthur at his side.

“Mr. Escuella. I asked you to be on your best behavior. Explain yourself?” Dutch’s voice was stern, hands on his hips as he waited for answers he wasn’t going to get.

“The boy is staying with us.” Was all Javier offered, brushing past the men as his eyes locked on Carlos.

“What now?” Arthur was incredulous, though not half as much as Dutch.

“He’ll stay in my tent. She’s not taking him.”

“Javier. What are you talking about? We are not in the business of kidnapping children.”

“He’s my son, Dutch.” Javier hissed, turning around to face the men, features harsh in the fire light. “She’s not taking him from me.”


	3. Fishing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all the nice comments and encouragement! It is so wonderful to see how excited people are for this story and that you all are invested in it. I can't express how much that means to me. Thank you thank you thank you!

You couldn’t say you were surprised the men had sided with Javier, moving the man to your tent to ensure he was by your side at all times. What did surprise you was how fiercely they guarded you over the next week. Even when Javier was out of camp, the men kept their eyes on you, ensuring that you couldn’t make a run for it with your son.

You did your best to downplay the situation to your son, not wanting to frighten him. But you knew he could sense the tension between you and Javier. You didn’t know if anyone had yet let slip to Carlos that Javier was his father. But you stuck to the boy like a tick in a bid to keep the truth a secret. He didn’t need to know that this was the man his father was. A scoundrel, a murderer, a kidnapper.

With the sunlight just starting to peek over the horizon, you stirred. You couldn’t say you were really waking, for it felt like you had never really slept. You were on edge at all times now, constantly aware of your surroundings as you felt trapped in a camp of enemy spies.

You lay between your son and your kidnapper, sheltering him from the man as best you could. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw that Javier was still asleep, his expression laxed and his breathing soft. For a moment, the sight brought you back to your younger days, when every morning was spent in his arms, savoring his kisses, confident that that would be the rest of your life.

With a huff, you scootched further away, wrapping your arms around your son protectively. You wouldn’t let him hurt Carlos the way he had hurt you.

Casually, you looked around the camp. A number of people were already awake, wandering around the camp, meaning you would be caught if you tried to secure a horse. You heard shifting behind you just before a shadow was cast over you and your son. Javier peered down at the two of you, hair disheveled and eyes still sleepy as he looked over Carlos.

“The boy’s a good sleeper.” He muttered, briefly meeting your eyes. You grunted in response, expression cold as he watched you. For a moment, he looked like he might say more, but thought better of it, lifting himself off his elbow to sit up. Tying his hair back, he dusted himself off before standing. “Make sure he gets a good breakfast.” You wanted to kick at his legs as he instructed you how to parent your own son.

But you let him walk away, unwilling to start a fight in front of your son. Sitting up, you rubbed your sore back. You were a long way from the comfortable mattresses of the inn you had hoped to stay at.

“Mhhh.” As your son stirred, you ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly.

“Good morning.” You smiled at him softly, the sight of his shining eyes easing the tension that had built up inside you.

“Morning, Mamá.”

“How’s some breakfast sound?” You asked, dusting off his jacket.

“Yes please.”

Leisurely, the two of you made your way to the stew, waiting for a few of the gang members to get theirs before helping yourself. Making sure Carlos didn’t spill his bowl, you led him over to the table, sitting down next to Abigail and Jack as the four of you ate in silence. It wasn’t long before the boys had finished.

“Mamá, can I go play with Jack?” Carlos asked, showing you his empty bowl as if it earned him a reward.

“Of course, just stay where I can see you.” The boys were a fit of giggles as they ran off, chasing each other and ruff housing.

“How are you holding up?” Abigail finally spoke once the boys were out of earshot.

“I want to leave.” It was the only answer you gave whenever anyone asked you anything. You may be trapped here, but you weren’t going to make it easy on them.

“I know hun. I’m trying to talk some sense into Dutch for you. But he’s a stubborn man.” Abigail spared you a sympathetic look.

“It ain’t none of his business.”

“He sees Javier as one of his own, so he thinks it is his business.”

“Well he’s wrong.” Glancing over at your son, alarm beseeched you as Javier lifted him onto his horse, placing him on the saddle in front of him. “Joder!” Leaping from the table, you dashed across the camp. “Where do you think you’re going?” Grabbing the reins, you held the horse in place as you glared daggers at the man.

“I promised the boy we’d go fishing. Isn’t that right, boy?” Javier said innocently, smiling as Carlos agreed with him.

“Uh-huh.”

“He doesn’t know how to fish.” You growled, offering your hand for your son to dismount.

“I’m going to teach him. It’s a good skill for the boy to have.”

“Please, Mamá. Can I go?” Carlos pleaded, fixing you with the biggest eyes he could muster.

“Yeah, Mamá. Can he?” Javier’s mocking smile had you fighting the urge to smack him.

“Fine. But I’m coming.” Grabbing a nearby horse, you jumped on with no regard for who you were leaving stranded. “And Carlos rides with me.”

“I don’t think so.” Raising a brow, Javier flashed you a grin before turning his horse and heading out.

“Cabrón!” you called after him.

“Better keep up.” He called back, grinning widely.

Cursing under your breath, you followed suit, making sure to never be more than ten feet from your son. Javier chatted with Carlos, talking to him about his interests and testing how good his Spanish was.

“And Mamá thinks I’m not old enough to ride by myself but I’m really good. I never fall off or anything.” Carlos was many things, inquisitive, polite, generally happy, but shy wasn’t one of them.

“Is that so?” Javier asked, nodding along as Carlos continued, pausing only to take a breath.

“Yeah. And sometimes I can get on all by myself. I used to not be able to reach, but now, I jump, and I can do it all by myself.” Carlos beamed with pride.

“Sounds like we’ll need to get you a horse of your own soon.” Patting his shoulder, Javier chuckled at the boy’s excitement.

“Really?”

“No.” You interjected, shooting the man a disapproving look. “We only need one horse and that’s enough trouble to keep track of.” Carlos sank into his saddle, dejected.

“Aww, Cariña.” You weren’t sure what made you madder, Javier’s instigating, or how much he was enjoying himself.

“Don’t make me the bad guy in this. And don’t call me that.” You snipped.

As you glared at the man who only spared you a cheeky grin, you missed the way your son watched you, looking back and forth between the two of you.

“You worry too much. Always have. I can teach him how to ride so well, even the fastest lawman couldn’t catch him.”

“Dios mío. You are incorrigible.”

“It’s just a horse. The boy should know how to ride on his own. He’s- How old are you?”

“Eight.” Carlos answered, head tilting back to look up at the man.

“Eight? Damn. You’re practically a young man.” Something flashed across Javier’s face, an expression you couldn’t identify as he rubbed the boy’s arm. “Tomorrow, we’ll start teaching you how to ride. But today, we’ll start on fishing.” You huffed, but said no more on the matter.

After several more minutes of idle conversation, the three of you came to a small pond nestled in a thicket of trees. It was a beautiful little spot with flowers growing along the bank and clear waters. It was a peaceful spot, a secret treasure hidden in the middle of this savage land. Helping Carlos off the horse, Javier went to work unpacking the rods as your son ran down to the banks to look at all the fish.

“There are so many!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Yes. Big ones. We should be able to catch quite a few.” A soft smile played his lips as he hummed a tune to himself.

“Since when do you even know how to fish?” You asked, dismounting.

“Hosea taught me when I joined the gang.”

“AH! That one’s so big. Do you see, Mamá?”

“Si,” you called before turning back to Javier. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but if you do anything to hurt that boy, I swear-“

“I’m just spending time with my son.” He cut you off, expression blank as he raised a brow at you. “Isn’t that what fathers are supposed to do? Teach their sons things. Make sure they grow up to be men.”

“That boy doesn’t know you’re his father and I’d just as soon keep it that way. He doesn’t need to get his hopes up just for you to let him down.”

“Sure you’re still talking about the boy?” The way his eyes looked at you, so decisive, so cool and collected, set a storm brewing in the pit of your gut.

“Vete a la mierda.” You spat.

“Cuando y donde querida?” He retorted, brushing you off as he made his way to Carlos. “You ready to fish?”

Carlos cheered, eagerly taking the pole as Javier bend down to his level, explaining the technics and routine of fishing. You watched them for a minute or two, burning holes into the back of Javier’s skull. But when he didn’t burst into flames, you resigned yourself to sitting on the bank a ways off from the boy’s watching them as Carlos cast the rod, Javier showing him how to slowly reel in the bait.

You couldn’t hear what was being said, but your son had the biggest smile you had seen him wear in a long time. He’d been missing a good, consistent male figure in his life ever since the two of you had fled Mexico. And though you couldn’t say you were happy Javier was the one filling that role, you were glad that Carlos was spending so much time with the men. Learning from them.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of distrust you held for Javier. Somehow, you just knew he’d end up leaving again. And you couldn’t let your son get attached to someone who wouldn’t be there for him when he needed it. It was better to have no father than to have a father like that. But you would be lying if you tried to say Javier wasn’t good with him. Maybe it was all the time he had spent with Jack, or maybe it just came naturally, but he was good with Carlos. Knew how to talk to him, how to listen. Didn’t treat him like a bother or a baby.

If you were being honest with yourself, something that was painful in that moment, Javier looked just like the father you had always wished he’d been. Guiding, teaching, sharing smiles with Carlos. A warmth grew in your heart as he knelt behind the boy, arms reaching around him as he instructed him how to use the rod. But it was quickly replaced by bitterness as you remember the cold look in his eyes as he walked out the door, the sound of his horse’s hooves carrying him away, how he hadn’t even spared you one last kiss, one final ‘I love you’ before walking out of your life. You hated him for it. You couldn’t forget. And you wouldn’t forgive.

You were lost in thought as Javier watched you, staring down at the grass with a look of deep meditation. The scowl that shaped your features didn’t suit you. It darkened your pretty face, the man thought.

“Ay! I think I got a bite.” Carlos exclaimed, his line twitching.

“That’s it. Pull up on the rod to sink the hook. You got it. Now reel ‘er in.” Javier encouraged, hands on the boy’s shoulders as he watched the line thrash about. “Tire ‘er out. Now bring ‘em in. Look at that.” When the fish was within three feet of the bank, Carlos threw down his rod, dashing out into the water to fetch his fish. “Wait, not like that.” But as he splashed about, the boy came back up with a fish as long as his torso held tight in a hug, the brightest smile greeting Javier as the boy glowed with pride.

“It’s so big! I caught the biggest one!”

“You sure did.” Javier laughed, the sight of the boy, soaked and grinning ear to ear, pulled at something inside him, feeling the boy’s pride becoming his own. “Now come here. I’ll remove the hook.”

Trudging through the water, Carlos nearly dropped the fish more than once as it flopped within his grasp. But he held on tight, unwilling to surrender his catch as Javier took the hook out.

“This will make a good meal tonight.” With practiced skill, he pulled the hook out of the fish’s mouth, returning it to the boy who eagerly scooped it up. “Why don’t you go show your mother.”

“Si!” Sprinting off, Javier watched the boy with a soft smile.

Your thoughts were interrupted as your boy came running to you, smile wide and arms full.

“Mamá! Mamá! I caught the biggest fish! Look.”

“Oh my. All by yourself?” You smiled softly, attempting to hide your emotions as you studied your son’s catch.

“Mr. Javier said we could eat it tonight.”

“Well look at you. Only eight and already providing.” Your lips pursed as you smiled, causing your son to falter. He studied you for a moment, an unspoken thought surfacing as he sensed your sadness.

“Mamá. Is Mr. Javier my papá?” You were startled by his words, eyes flicking to the man in question as he fished.

“What makes you think that, mi vida?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to lie, but hoping to avoid the subject if you could.

“You act strange around him. And Jack said you don’t like him cause he’s my papá.” Sometimes you forgot just how much your son watched you. Just how aware he was of the world around him. With a sigh, you knew there was no way around this.

“Si. Mr. Javier is your papá.” Despite his suspicions, Carlos seemed genuinely surprised. Looking back at Javier, you couldn’t get a read on your son, concern growing the longer he stayed silent.

“Are we going to stay with him?” He finally asked, eyes returning to you with an innocence that left you with a pain in your heart.

“No, cariño. I just need to get things in order. Then we will be leaving.”

“But I like it here. Mr. Javier is nice. Can he come with us?”

“No dear. He has to stay here.”

“Then I want to stay. Why can’t we stay?”

“Because we need to move along. And you need to come with me.”

“But I want to stay with Mr. Javier. Why do we have to leave?”

“Because I said so.”

“But why?”

“Porque no!” Losing your temper, you snapped at him, his constant prodding only darkening the storm in your gut. Carlos was alarmed, but quickly grew quiet, shutting down. “Oh, cariño. I’m sorry.” Gathering him up in your arms, you kissed his cheek, rubbing his back reassuringly. “I know you want to stay, but we just can’t. You’ll understand when you’re older. But Mamá needs you to be strong.”

“Alright, Mamá.” It was a half hearted and dejected agreement. But you couldn’t say you expected more from the child. “Can I still fish some more?”

“Of course.” Kissing his forehead, you saw him off, hands clasping each other to control their trembling.

It didn’t take a genius to tell something was wrong. Carlos came trudging back, face long. A far cry from the bright smile he had left with. And from a quick glance your way, Javier could tell something had you deeply upset. Despite all the years, you still made that same face when you were trying to keep it together.

“Everything alright?” He asked as the boy joined him, the fish’s tail now dragging along the ground.

“Mamá’s mad at me.” Taking the fish to add to the catch basket, Javier watched you from under the brim of his hat.

“I’m sure she’s not mad, chiquito.” But Carlos seemed unconvinced. “Why don’t I go talk to her. You keep catching those big fish. I think I saw an even bigger fish over by those rocks.” The momentary diversion seemed to work as the boy prepared his rod, standing on his tiptoes to try to see the fish.

Ruffling his hair, Javier made his way to you. You were too lost in thought to notice his approach, only becoming aware as he spoke.

“You look like you’re going to cry, cariña.” Nudging your foot, he stole your attention, expression unreadable as he studied you.

“I told you not to call me that.” You muttered, turning your face away to hide your emotions.

“The boy thinks you’re mad at him.” You waited in silence, debating what to say before the words decided for you.

“He knows you’re his father.” A raise of his brows was the only response Javier offered.

“You told him?”

“He figured it out.”

“The kid’s smart.” With a grunt, he sat beside you, leaning back on his palms as the two of you watched Carlos fish.

“I hate you.” You muttered, eyes fixed on your son.

“I’ve noticed.”

“He wants to stay.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Tilting his head towards you, his calm brought some ease to the storm inside you. Though only a little.

“Javier-“

“I’m serious. You have security here.”

“Till you leave again.” You muttered, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“I’m not the one trying to sneak out in the middle of the night.” You scowled at his words, angry at being called out by him of all people.

“I can’t trust you. You left us. You said you’d come back. And you never did.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Like hell it’s not.” Carlos gave a yank on the rod, turning up nothing as the fish broke loose. You watched him, so many memories flooding you. All of them absent of Javier. “You could have been a great father. Could have been the man he looked up to.”

“I’m here now.” He offered, slipping his fingers into yours as he captured your gaze. Tears brimmed in your eyes as his sincerity frightened you. “I want to be his father. Hell, I still want to be your husband, if you’d let me. We have a second chance here. Don’t waste it.” You searched his eyes for the deception you couldn’t find. Hoping that he would make this easier for you, but his honesty was something you couldn’t argue against.

His hand held yours so comfortably, his eyes so familiar, and though his face had aged, he was still as handsome as the day you met him. He was here and close and warm, just as you remembered him. Just as you had always hoped he’d be, coming home finally to be yours again. He was your Javier, the man you married, the man you loved, the man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with.

“I just can’t trust you.” Pulling your hand free, you wiped at your tears, standing to rejoin your son as you found his company too tempting, too intimate and painful. Javier watched you leave, not a single one of the emotions that plagued him showing on his face.

The ride back to camp found you silent, listening as your son chatted with Javier about the fish they had caught. Carlos had had a good time at least. A grand time. Grander than he had had in a long time. Which only made things harder.

Upon your return, Carlos ran off to tell the men how great his fishing was and to play with Jack, the whole world a game to him. Javier took the basket of fish, sparing you a brief glance before heading off to Pearson. And you? You found Abigail. You needed someone who would listen. Someone who would understand. And she was as close as you had.

Arthur found Javier down by the water, beer in hand as he stared out at the lapping waves. Deep in thought, there was a soured expression on the man’s face, eyes distant and lost.

“Here you spent the whole day fishing and come back looking like someone gave you a swift kick.”

“Arthur.” Was all the man offered up in response.

“What’s got you in such a piss poor mood?” His question was met with silence as the other deliberated. Maybe debating whether to open up or not, maybe trying to work out what he wanted to say. Either way, the silence seemed to stretch out as the sun set.

“She still wants to leave.”

“The great Javier Escuella can’t even charm his own wife?” Arthur chuckled. The small flick of his eyes was warning enough that Javier was in no mood. “Alright, alright. Don’t need to go pulling out your knife or nothing. Have ya tried talkin’ to ‘er?”

“She’s always been stubborn. Says she can’t trust me. Not after so long.”

“Now, maybe it’s none of my business. But if she meant so much to ya, why didn’t you ever try going back to ‘er?”

“I wanted to. Thought about it every damn day. But there was always some excuse. I had been gone so long. I thought she wouldn’t want me. That she had probably moved on. That I’d be coming back a failure.” He snorted, lowering his head. “Guess I was afraid I hadn’t measured up to the man she thought I was. Then I came to America, and going home wasn’t really an option.” Emotions had rarely been so easily expressed by the man, but in the face of losing you a second time, it was a bit easier.

“Sounds like a mess alright.”

A mess was an understatement. You were so close, so tangible. Yet Javier felt like he couldn’t reach you, couldn’t get a grasp on you. You were like mist in his hands. But he couldn’t figure out how to win you back.


	4. Scars Of Love

Sleep was easier to come by these days for Javier. No longer fearing you’d sneak off as soon as he shut his eyes, he rested better knowing you would be by his side when he awoke. So when he was pulled from his sleep by a tug on his arm in the middle of the night, he didn’t initially wake. Rolled on his side, his arm was draped over something, causing him to stir as he felt someone nuzzle into him.

“Mi amada. How bold of you.” Cracking his eye open, Javier did not expect to be met by a set of large eyes glinting in the dim light. “Carlos?” Confused, the man’s attention was entirely on the boy that lay curled up against him.

It was still dark out. No moon to light the night and the fires burning low. He had to blink a few times to fully make out the boys figure. Fitted against him, Carlos’s hands fiddled with the buttons of Javier’s jacket.

“What are you doing, boy?” Sitting up on one elbow, Javier’s eyes briefly flicked over to your sleeping form. You were still with the exception of the small rhythmic expansions of your breathing, back turned to him.

Sheepishly, Carlos’s eyes fell, looking at anything but Javier’s face as he muttered.

“It’s dark.”

“It’s night.” Javier answered, though he couldn’t deny, tonight was darker than most nights. Lips pressed tight, Carlos looked like he was on the verge of tears as he spoke. Or was it a trick of the shadows?

“Bad men come in the dark.” Suddenly, Javier could picture it all too clearly.

You and Carlos sleeping around a campfire in unfamiliar lands. The stars, the soft wind, the glow of the fire, like a beacon for robbers and murderers. Had you been attacked in the past? Had men pointed guns at you, a woman and her child? The thought had his stomach flipping. But Carlos pressing closer kept his anger in check.

“I’m here now. Anyone tries to hurt you or mamá, I’ll gut them.” Carlos startled at the threat, but as Javier wrapped an arm around him, sheltering the boy in his embrace, a calm settled over him. Appreciatively, the boy leaned into Javier, burying his face in the larger chest.

It wasn’t long before sleep overcame him, breathing softly under the man’s watchful eye. So trusting, so sure that he would be safe after only a few words. Javier knew children took anything adults said as fact, but to have such a tiny thing in his arms, believing in him so wholly. He could only curse himself for his youthful foolishness. All the wasted years, the time and memories he had missed. You were oblivious as his eyes flicked over to your sleeping form, watching you breathe, lost deep in thought as the night slipped into dawn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was well past risen when you finally stirred, the sound of work and chatter bringing you to consciousness. Sitting up, you weren’t surprised to see Javier was gone. The few times he had tried to slip you into his arms in the morning, you had shut him down. Maybe a little too harshly. But he had learned to leave you alone, at least in the morning.

What you hadn’t expected, was for Carlos to be missing. Usually when your son woke up before you, he would be all over you. Asking to play, climbing on you, wanting breakfast. But lately, in the safety of the camp, with so many people he considered friends, he was becoming more and more independent.

It hurt a bit, feeling less needed by your son. For so long, it had only been the two of you. You had been his whole world, and he yours. But things were changing. He was getting older. You knew you couldn’t keep him to yourself forever. But it was still a struggle knowing his bright smile wasn’t just yours anymore.

Fussing with your hair, you did your best to make yourself presentable. Though the lack of a clean bath was more than taking its toll on your appearance. Most of the camp had eaten breakfast already, leaving a small bit of stew bubbling in the bottom of the pot. But, as stomach turning as it was, it was still a free meal you didn’t have to cook. So you held back your complaints.

You had barely sat down at the table before the loud sounds of familiar laughter drew your attention. Smiling, you lifted your head to look in the direction of your son. It took you a moment to find him, eyes sweeping the ground till you glanced up at Javier.

His expression was relaxed, his easy nature resonating with you as you watched a lazy smile shape his lips. It bothered you now. No matter what you said to him, no matter how much you refused him, no matter how hard you pushed him, he would just stare at you with those calm eyes. At least when you had first encountered him, there had been a fire in him.

You couldn’t say why this calm upset you so much. You wanted him to fight you, yell, scream, maybe even hit you. Something. Not just sitting there, watching you get worked up. Maybe that would make it easier for you to run. To take your son and leave him behind.

But instead he stood there calmly, letting you be crazy. Letting you go mad. And you hated him for it.

You followed his eyes as he chuckled to himself, curious what had him so entertained. To your horror, you saw your son atop Javier’s horse. Gathering your skirt, you rushed across the camp, the rustling of fabric signaling your approach.

“Mi hijo! What are you doing?” Javier and Charles tilted their heads to regard you as you dashed towards them.

“Good morning.” Charles greeted.

“Finally up, mi amor?” You smacked him as hard as you could, forcing him to take a step back as you nearly knocked him over.

“Hey!” On instinct, Charles stepped between the two of you, not sure who he needed to protect from whom.

“Bastardo! How dare you go behind my back!” swinging wildly, you tried to get through Charles to get at the other. But the thick man was immovable. “I told you. He’s not old enough to be riding!”

“Seems to be doing fine to me.” Javier never turned to face you, but his eyes fixed you with a cold stare. Not the anger you were looking for, but it was enough to fuel your outrage.

“Hijo de-“

“Mamá!” The distress in your son’s voice stopped you.

There were tears brimming in his eyes as he watched you, a look of panic shaping his expression. Javier forgotten, you rushed to your son.

“Mi hijo. Please. Get down from there.” Offering your hand, your heart stung at the hesitance in your son’s eyes.

“No, mamá.”

“Mi hijo. Please. It’s dangerous.” Pushing your hand further towards him, you insisted.

“He’s a very strong rider.” Stepping forward, Charles stole your attention, attempting to defuse the situation.

“I want to ride, mamá.”

“You will hurt yourself. It is too dangerous.” You argued, feeling attacked as everyone stood against you.

“You baby him too much, carina. Let him ride.” You stiffened at Javier’s voice, low in your ear, feeling his chest at your back. There was something in his tone, not a threat, but heavy and stern. “Go on, chiquito. Show your mamá how good you are.”

“Si!” excitedly, Carlos spurred the horse into a trot, bouncing slightly in the saddle as he road.

You moved for him, but Javier’s hands on either side of your arms held you in place.

“Just watch.” Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt your control slipping away.

Javier felt you trembling in his hold, humming softly in your ear as he rubbed your shoulders. Pulling on the reins, Carlos lead the horse in circles, occasionally glancing up to see if you were watching.

“Very good.” Moving to your side, Javier seemed pleased with himself. “Practice your jump.” Your head snapped towards him. Before you could protest, Javier had slipped his hand around your waist, tilting his head to murmur. “Have some faith, mi amada.”

It took everything in you not to jump after your baby as he picked up speed, heading straight towards a hitching post. You wanted to look away, but your eyes couldn’t leave your son as he grew closer and closer. Just as he reached the post, you clutched at Javier’s vest, a sharp intake of air all you could manage.

Leaning forward, Carlos hugged the saddle horn as the horse leapt over the post. It was a sloppy jump, but as the horse’s hooves hit the ground, your son was still seated.

“Ah!” You gasped, hands clasping together in your astonishment.

“Did you see, mamá?” Excited, Carlos beamed at you.

It was a bittersweet moment. You couldn’t deny you were so proud of your son. But as he took further steps towards independence, you were left feeling more and more unneeded. He wasn’t your little boy anymore. He was learning, growing, becoming a young man.

“You’re getting so big, mi hijo.” Biting back tears, you smiled for your son.

At your words, Carlos was shining brighter than the sun. Empowered by your praise, he continued to trot around, turning the horse as he pleased. You did your best to be happy for him, but with a deep breath to stifle your tears, it was clear you were struggling with your son’s new found freedom.

“You did good. Raised a good kid.” Pulling you against his side, Javier’s words still seemed a bit frigid, but sincere.

“Why do you have to be so difficult.” You bit back your tears, watching your son glow as he trotted around, Charles helping guide him along.

“Same reason you have to be a hot head.” He answered, hand readjusting its hold on your waist.

“You used to love that about me.” You shot back. Briefly, you chanced a glance only to find your gaze fixed by the sight of him. Eyes watching your son, there was a softness to him you had only seen in small moments in his youth. But the pride, that you recognized.

“Still do, cariña.” He grinned, nodding at Carlos as he looked over at the two of you. “Always will.” Leaning in, his breath was warm against your ear. “Though you didn’t need to hit me quite so hard.”

“I can’t help it. You make me crazy.”

“You were crazy when I married you.”

“I was sixteen.”

“And crazy.”

“Bastardo.” You chuckled. Your fingers slipped so naturally between the buttons of his vest as you leaned against him. You both watched Carlos as he enjoyed himself, settling into each other as his laughter lightened your heart.

“Can I take him into town, hermosa? When his riding is strong enough.” You felt his lips brush your earlobe as he breathed the words softly.

“You’re asking my permission now?”

“You could come too. I’d like to buy you a new dress.” You looked down at your filthy, tattered remains of your once vibrant gown. It had seen a lot in the last three years since you had fled Mexico. And you couldn’t say it was living up to your standards, let alone Javier’s.

His hand snuck into yours, pulling your fingers free of his vest to kiss your palm. For a moment, you forgot yourself, taking his jaw between your fingers and giving it a playful push as you laughed softly.

“Am I not presentable enough for you, Mr. Escuella?”

“Not when I know just how exquisite you can be.” He smiled, eyes intimate and proud as they regarded you.

Carlos, in his eagerness to turn, flipped the reins over the horses head, getting them stuck on one side and the two ran round and round in a tight circle.

“Ease up on the reins. I’m coming.” Slipping from your grasp, Javier was quickly to your son’s side, helping him ease the horse before correcting the reins.

They looked so much alike. You had known this since Carlos was born, but now seeing them side by side, the resemblance was terrifying. There was so much of Javier left in that child. His strength, his confidence, his eagerness to learn and experience the world. You couldn’t escape it. And it scared you. In so many ways he would grow up to be the mirror image of Javier. And you still weren’t sure if that brought you comfort or terrified you.

“See you two are getting along now.” You turned to find a greasy looking blond man at your side. At first you weren’t sure he was talking to you, his eyes fixed on Javier as if you weren’t even there. “Like one big family.” Something in the lilt to his voice made you uneasy, feeling something slimy just beneath his cordial tone. “Mighty big of you. After all these years. Not many women would take a man back after being abandoned so he could sleeze his way through the West.”

“Excuse me?”

“I just mean that no woman I’ve ever met would be big enough to take back their husband when he had hit up ever brothel from here to Blackwater. I’ve never seen a man charm a woman out of her dress like that man.” As he saw your face drop, a wicked grin stretched his lips. “But good on you. You’re a good woman.”

It all came back to you in a rush. The anger, the hurt, the abandonment and distrust. Sure, he was being romantic and caring now, but what had he gotten up to in those nine years he was gone? It all hit you like a slap in the face. You were being stupid. Naive and stupid. You had so quickly become that sixteen year old girl, falling for his charm and that handsome face. You’re a fool. A damn fool.

As Javier glanced over at you, flashing a heartstopping smile, you glared at him with all the loathing you could muster before gathering up your skirt to storm off. You were out of earshot before you could hear the blond man’s laughter at Javier’s confusion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things had been going to well. You had finally started to warm up to him, the two of you slipping into your old banter. He had only been gone a minute and now you looked like you wanted to gut him. But as Micah’s laughter rang out, the pieces began to fall into place.

“Stay right here for a moment.” Javier instructed to Carlos, not waiting for his response before heading off in your direction. “What did you do?” His voice was a low threat as he approached the camp rat, eyes flashing dangerously.

“I was just having a talk with your wife.” Micah feigned innocence unconvincingly. “She’s a lovely thing. Can see why you’re so desperate to get her back.” The man’s smugness was unfazed as Javier grabbed a fistful of his jacket.

“You know, Micah. You don’t HAVE to be such an asshole. Stay away from my family.” As much as Javier wanted to rid the other of that smarmy look, you were quickly growing out of sight, and he knew it was best he attended to you.

Pushing the other away, Javier hurried to your side, grabbing your arm to catch the slap he anticipated was coming his way.

“Mi amor. What did that bastard do-“

“Don’t touch me you filthy puta!” Wrenching your hand free of his, your chest breathed heavy in rage as you could so easily picture his passion in the arms of another. Hear the sweet words he whispered in their ear to charm them. “You are disgusting, Javier. You’re not my husband. Me and Carlos will not stay with you. And you’re ugly.” The last part you threw out in a clumsy attempt to get under the man’s skin. Desperate to upset him, hurt him, make him feel some small iota of the pain he had inflicted on you.

“Qué?” Temporarily stunned at the abrupt fury you spewed, his wide eyed expression offered you little satisfaction. “What the hell? We were fine five minutes ago and suddenly you hate me again? What did that rat say to you?”

“I must have been delirious with heat to think you could be anything but trash. Don’t touch me. I’m so sick of you touching me. I hate you.” Smacking his hand away as he reached for you, you left the man speechless as you escaped him.

The rest of your day was spent avoiding Javier, darting away whenever he so much as glanced at you. But still, you were unable to escape his genuine smile and warm eyes as he bonded with Carlos. That was probably the worst of it. As the hours passed by, your son never left Javier’s side, never sought you out. Even as the sun was setting, dinner far from your mind, he was still following the man around. They seemed thick as thieves. And it disgusted you.

At last, as darkness overtook the camp, you had had enough. You were haunted by the image’s the blond man had planted in your mind. Grabbing a bottle, you headed off for the shore, eager to leave the gang’s laughter behind you. Knocking the bottle back, the sand was unforgiving as you fell back into it. You cursed this gang for keeping you here. Cursed Javier for roping you back in after all these years. And somewhere deep inside, you cursed yourself for letting him get to you so easily. Still letting him have the upper hand.

Sulking in the dark, you drank to numb the anger, the bitterness, and the longing.

Javier watched you storm off, snatching up a bottle of gin as you left. Lips pressed thin, frustration bubbled in his stomach. He had anticipated it would take a while to win you over. But every interaction with you was a fight, every conversation laced in bitterness. A part of him loved it. You made him feel young again, wild and reckless. But there was a part of him that sought security in you, wanting to know you would be his once more and forever. And this constant game of back and forth was losing its charm.

As Carlos played with Jack, scribbling lines on paper at the side of the fire, Javier took his chance to slip away. Lighting up a cigarette as he walked off in the direction you had disappeared, he couldn’t really say he knew what he wanted to get out of this interaction. But things had to hit a head at some point. And with Carlos preoccupied, this would be the perfect time to speak candidly.

The soft sound of shifting sand alerted you to his approach. Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes flashed with cruelty. But he paid it no mind, coming to stand over you as he eyed the bottle.

“Not now, Javier.” Your tone was a sharp warning that the man ignored.

“It’s no fun to drink alone, cariña.”

“I’m not drinking for fun.” Tossing the bottle back, you took an extra large gulp, just to spite him.

“Then what are you drinking for?” Easing himself down, he sat next to you, closer than you would have liked, but you weren’t about to give him the victory of you moving.

“You.”

“Ah, mi amor. You know you don’t have to get tipsy for me to take advantage of you.” His sly smile and the gleam in his eye told you he was greatly enjoying himself.

“Not funny.” You snorted, pushing him away as he leaned into you. But taking a tight grip on your jaw, he turned you back to him, face so near he was all you saw.

“I wasn’t joking.” In your weakness, you couldn’t say his lips were unwelcomed. Chapped and rough, there was still a tenderness there that bespoke a lifetime of affection. You ached for his touch, longing for the strength and security he had provided you in your youth.

Turning your head away, you broke the kiss, a small sob hiccupping from you as you closed your eyes tight against the tears. Seeing the small streams trailing down your cheek, Javier sighed.

“Do I really disgust you that much?”

“I hate you.” Your voice was as shaky as your body.

“So you keep saying.” Leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs, Javier watched you. Frustrated with your stubbornness.

“I hate you.” You again muttered, drawing your knees up to your chest to hide your face away. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

“I love you.” The words slipped freely, like they were his own name, something he had been born to say again and again for the rest of his life. Snorting, you never lifted your head.

“Don’t give me that smooth talk, Javier. I know you better than that.”

“I mean it,” You missed the way his eyes lost focus in memories. “You’re just as beautiful as I remember. Strong and fierce and so alive. When I see you, it’s like I’m fourteen again. Watching you wash clothes by the river. Just hoping you’ll glance my way so I can see you smile.” You tilted your head just enough to peek out at him, his profile in the moonlight leaving your heart aching as you saw him through the lenses of love you could never lose.

Noticing your eyes, his head tilted towards you, hands reaching out for you. You closed your eyes, waiting expectantly for his fingers to comb through your hair, rub your back, pull you into his embrace. But instead, you felt the bottle slipped from your fingers. When you again looked upon him, he had the bottle tipped back, the strong liquor bubbling as he drank down a large gulp.

“Maybe I wasted my one shot. Maybe I was just too young and stupid to know what was most important and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying for that. But I just can’t accept that, mi amada. I can’t let you slip away. Even if you hate me for it.”

“Why couldn’t you have just come back? I waited for so long.” You interrupted, head turned to give him your undivided attention as his words had your foggy brain captivated.

“I wanted to. I really did, cariña.” Looking down at the water, he seemed to deliberate for a moment, fingers playing with the fabric of his pants. “I killed a man, mi amada. A very important man. Military. El bastardo knew about you. Said he’d-“ Eyes shutting tight at the memories of the monstrous threats the man had made, Javier’s fist were clenched tight, breathing more labored. Inhibitions dulled by alcohol, you slid closer to lay against him, taking his hand in yours as your head tilted to look up into his eyes. You wanted him to continue, wanted to hear his words, wanted him to give you a reason to believe in him again. Javier leaned into your warmth, mind miles away in memories of a different life, a different him. “He said he’d send men to our house. Have them hurt you. In a real bad way. I shot him down. But I knew there would be more. They’d keep sending men after you till they got to me. So I left Mexico. It was all I could do to keep you safe.”

You listened as he spoke, struggling to absorb all he was telling you. Lifting his hand to your lips, you rested against it, thoughts swirling with the alcohol, leaving your mind fuzzy.

“Why didn’t you bring me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to leave. Or that you’d still want me. I left you to change our country. Make it better. But in the end, I hadn’t made any difference.” You knew that look all too well. His pensive expression, restless and frustrated at the world and at himself.

“Cariño, I never stopped wanting you.” The alcohol let slip your most guarded truth, heart fluttering at the soft way he regarded you. Cupping his neck in your palm, you pulled him closer, lips brushing as you spoke. “I would have followed you anywhere.” You could feel his humid breath against your lips, his gaze heavy as he watched you, hesitant, but hopeful. You could feel his pulse under your palm, the way he swallowed as his eyes flicked from your gaze to your lips, the rough line along his neck.

“What’s this?” To Javier’s frustration, you pulled back, hand rubbing along his neck as the texture left you puzzled.

Fingers hooking his neckerchief, you pulled it down to reveal the long, deep scar that carved his neck. Within an instant, your blood ran cold, heart stilling at the sight. At your wide eyed stare, Javier pulled his collar up around the scar, leaning away in his discomfort and shame.

“Javier…”

“It’s nothing.” But a scar like that was hardly nothing. 

“What happened?” There was a long pause as memories flashed through his head, horrible ugly things that haunted him in his moments of stillness and fear. He had never spoken to anyone about the origin of his scar, and he wanted to keep it that way. But seeing in your eyes the deep rooted concern that bordered on distress, he felt compelled to answer you.

“I was stupid. It was my first week in America. I didn’t speak any English. Didn’t have a friend in the world. I was camping out in the dessert when a group of men jumped me. They-“ He paused, not wanting to continue, but your hand on his encouraged him. “They slit my throat and left me for dead. Taking everything I owned. All they left me was this knife.” Pulling out his trusty blade, he eyed it with a stony expression that left you deeply unsettled. “I don’t know how I made it. But in the morning, I managed to bandage myself up and drag myself to the nearest town.” The memories of the fear and the pain and the cold gripped him. The thought that this was how he died, alone in the dessert, never getting to hold you one last time and tell you how sorry he was. It was all real too him. As if it had happened that morning.

A hard smack to his arm pulled him from his thoughts.

“You asshole!”

“Ay?” You were irate. Anger darkening your features as tears poured down your cheeks. And for a moment, Javier was stunned into silence.

“You hijo de puta. You leave me and then go off and get yourself killed?!” You smacked him again, this time in the chest. And then again when you found it unsatisfactory. “You asshole. You stupid, stupid man. Javier, you arrogant, narcissistic, vain man.” With each insult you smacked him, biting back sobs.

As the blows began to hurt, he grabbed your wrists, attempting to quell your rage.

“Are you loco, mujer?”

“How could you do that? How could you die on me?” You continued to fight him, eyes unfocussed and words a struggle to pronounce.

“I’m not dead!” He growled, pinning your arms down. When English became too hard, your insults slipped into Spanish, anger doing nothing to hide your fear. Shouting back, Javier did his best to gain your attention.

“I’m here, carina.” His lips denied you a rebuttal as he kissed you over and over again. “I’m not leaving you.” Your protests were getting weaker as his kisses grew stronger. “I’ll never leave you again.” His lips sealed yours into silence, pushing you back into the sand as he rolled on top of you. His kisses were hot and hungry, making you mewl as his tongue forced its way past your lips to overpower your own. A burning fire coursed through your skin as his hands pawed at your body, greedy and rough and longing for all of you.

Weakly, you pushed at his chest, knowing that you should stop this, that you shouldn’t give in. But his body pressed against yours felt too right, too familiar. Javier could sense your hesitation and seized his opportunity. Nestling between your legs, his hips ground against yours, lips moving to your neck as he bit and sucked at your flesh.

“Mi amor.” He groaned, voice husky and low. You shivered at the feeling of his hands gripping you so tight, his stiffness pressed against you. “I’ve missed you so much.” A small moan grew in the back of your throat, face flushed, as you clutched at the back of his vest.

He wanted to draw this out, to savor his first taste of you in almost ten years. In the many times he had fantasised about this moment, he had imagined teasing you endlessly, reducing you to a begging, sobbing mess of pleasure before taking you all night long. But you were here, you were his to have, and he needed you, now.

Biting into your neck roughly, your gasp did him in. He freed himself and hiked your skirt up before the shudder had traveled the course of your spine. His breath against your neck set you ablaze, all the years of need culminating in that moment.

“Javi. Please, please.” You begged, pushing and pulling at him in a mindless fever, the power the man held over you like a dark magic, controlling and frightening and everything you longed for in the deepest most secret part of your heart.

He was in you without hesitation, taking only a split second, if any time at all, to savor the way you clenched around him, head thrown back as you moaned. He had no control over himself, hips thrusting into your warmth, mouth hungry for any part of you within reach. His praises were practically sung. He was as loud and passionate as you remembered. Lids heavy, eyes fogged over and lost, he watched you fall apart in his arms, lust and love mixing in his heart to produce the most beautiful devotion his short and hard life had ever known.

“Mi cielito. Mi vida. Gracias.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Arthur! Arthur! Look.” The large man looked down as Carlos appeared at his side, proudly thrusting forth a drawing to be admired.

“That’s very good.” Taking the picture in hand, Arthur encouraged the boy, admiring the crude drawing of the various gang members.

“That’s you. And that’s Jack and Miss Abigail and Mamá Grimshaw.” Carlos pointed to all the different depictions in turn, most of them indistinguishable from the last.

“Which one’s you?”

“Here.” He pointed to a slightly shorter figure with an oversized smile. “And that’s Mr. Javier.”

“Then is this your ma’?”

“Si.”

“How come you and Javier have such big smiles, but your ma’ looks so sad?”

“Mamá always looks like that.” Arthur studied the boy in slight surprise, both at his statement and just how casual he was about it.

“Why don’t you show your ma’ how nice your drawing is.” Nodding, the boy looked around for you, but you were nowhere to be seen. “Hey, anyone seen the boy’s ma?”

“She’s over along the shore that way.” Karen offered, words only slightly slurred as she pointed off to the bend in the shore. “Javier went to go get her.”

“I better go make sure they ain’t killing each other.” Standing with a groan, he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder when he moved to follow. “You should show Abigail your picture while I get your mother.” The boy was easily distracted, scurrying off to flaunt his art to anyone who would so much as feign interest. Arthur was grateful for that, wanting to spare the boy the sight of his parents in another fight.

Lighting up a cigarette, the cowboy meandered his way in the direction Karen had so vaguely pointed to. He really didn’t want to get into the middle of Javier’s affairs. There was enough trouble to deal with in the gang and John and Abigail seemed to have a monopoly on dysfunctional relationships. But he considered Javier a good friend, and a better gang member. He was reliable and loyal. Maybe even to a fault. He had had Arthur’s back so many times, especially after Mary. Keeping him from being reckless and getting himself killed. So the cowboy figured he owed it to his friend to at least help in some small way.

Coming around the bend he heard you before he saw you. Or, rather, heard Javier. In all the saloons and hotels he had spent his time in, Arthur had probably heard a louder man at some point in his life. But as the sound of his friend’s lewd groans filled his ears, he was hard pressed to think of any.

He didn’t want to see the two of you, but before he could stop himself, his eyes had locked on the sight of you. A tangled mess of two people made one, Javier seemed possessed, hips moving wildly with your legs thrown up in the air as they wrapped around him. Your voices mixing together in frantic Spanish that Arthur didn’t need to understand to feel his blood pooling where it shouldn’t.

The flush of his cheeks crept down to his neck, warming his face. He had walked in on people a time or two. Sean and Karen were notorious for having no sense of privacy when drunk. But this felt so much different.

Spinning on his heels, the cowboy marched away as quick as he could, trying to shake the image from his mind as the sounds of your love chased him.

“They fightin’ again?” Karen called as Arthur came into the light of the fire.

“No. I, uh, wouldn’t call it that.” He muttered, keeping his head low as he tried not to let his mind revisit what he had just witnessed.

“What do you mean?” Abigail asked, confused by the way Arthur hid his face.

“They’re, um, getting sand in places they shouldn’t.” It was the most discreet thing Arthur could think to say. But it still made Abigail flush. Karen, however, just laughed.

“Get it, Javier.” She yells back towards the water drunkenly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breathless and slick with sweat, you lay against Javier’s chest, feeling his breath rattle beneath you. He touched you with hands that had seen uncountable cash and gold and jewels. Yet you felt by the way his fingertips traced your skin, that you were the greatest treasure he had ever held. His lips were gentle against your forehead, Spanish words of affection softly whispered for your ears only.

“What am I doing?” You asked, more to yourself as the sudden stillness pressed in around you.

“If I’m lucky? Getting ready for another go.” You bit back a smile at his dry humor, despite the nervousness that gripped your heart.

“I mean here. With you. Is this a mistake?”

“This is a funny way of saying thank you.”

“Is this real, Javier?” Words spoken from the depths of your heart, slipping through the door Javier always managed to open. “Are you real?”

“I don’t know.” Tilting your head up, his eyes looked at you. Truly seeing you. “Does this feel real?” Sealing your lips with his, the kiss was long, lingering. It felt right. Like coming home after a long journey. When he at last broke away, his smile was so much like you remembered.

“I’m scared, Javier. This- us. It terrifies me.” Resting your head back on his chest, your eyes studied the scar that carved his throat, a deep, enduring ache settling in your heart.

“I have you again. Everything will be fine.”

“There’s been so much time. So much distance.”

“You never left my thoughts, mi amor. I promise we’ll make up for all the time. Together.” His arms were tight around you, his words soft in your ear. “I’m not giving up on us.”

“Was there ever anyone else?” It was a question you didn’t want to ask, but your insecurity got the best of you.

“Here and there. Nothing deep. Mostly prostitutes.” Nuzzling into your hair, he denied you the chance to read his expression. “They don’t care who’s name you call. You?”

“Two.” You said, chasing away the memory of their faces, their touch. “It was just a matter of survival.” Javier felt his heart darken at the implication. His wife, having to sleaze around to keep herself and her son alive. All for his failures.

His hand snaked up into your hair, rubbing your scalp with his calloused thumb as he hummed softly. Closing your eyes, you focused on his touch, his warmth, the budding feeling of security that his embrace gave you.

“Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you again.”

“I’m not going anywhere, mi amor.”


End file.
